


Her Ghost, Her Shadow

by acrossthecosmos



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, College Setting, F/M, Fucked Up, Hurt/Comfort, Lydia Deetz is an adult, Sexual Violence, Stalking, beetlebabes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24128755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrossthecosmos/pseuds/acrossthecosmos
Summary: It started with post-it notes on her window and escalated to violence. Lydia is at the mercy of a deranged stalker and there's only one person that can save her: a certain chaos demon from her past.
Relationships: Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz
Comments: 18
Kudos: 78





	Her Ghost, Her Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything for this fandom lurking. I'm aware that there are a lot of anti-shippers and fancops in the fandom. I hope this doesn't attract a lot of hate. I'm too afraid to even post or retweet stuff about this ship on my twitter. You have no idea. 
> 
> Some trigger warnings for readers: This contains stalking and attempted sexual assault. I don't want anyone to get hurt by reading this so please hit the back button if this type of content might leave a negative effect on your mental health.

If people asked her how she expected her life to be at nineteen, Lydia Deetz wouldn’t believe _afraid_ or _alone_ would be the words to describe her young adulthood. Those words were supposed to be her teen years—a phase an ignorant person might call it. Lydia hadn’t thought of what that _phase_ actually was until talking with a therapist after the Beetlejuice incident. Depression was what the doctor diagnosed her with. But, with enough counseling and anti-depressants, she recovered. The doctor eventually weaned her off of Prozac, and when college admissions came around, she managed to land herself into Steinhardt Music School at New York University. 

_Music_ —that was her outlet to release all that pain and anger sitting inside of her. It started as a hobby after the chaos that Beetlejuice wrecked upon her home. Lydia remembers long hours singing and playing the piano her father bought for her the Christmas after Beetlejuice. Somewhere between then and now, she had managed to develop her talent. Her father credits her private teacher, but the Maitlands tell her it’s a natural talent that she’s always had. Lydia still believes it to be a little bit of both.

NYU is the opportunity of a lifetime. Any soul in the world would be happy with a powerful mezzo-soprano voice and acceptance into a prestigious music program. And, oh was Lydia grateful. NYU was all she could think about during her senior year of high school. Leaving the Maitlands, her father, and her step-mother behind would be tough, but she was also ready to come into her own. It was supposed to be about meeting new people, making friends, and most of all, perfecting her music.

Something somewhere went so horribly, horribly wrong. It started with post-it notes on the window to her fire escape each inscribed with tiny little messages. _Nice hair today, Loved Your New Dress_ and various other small compliments were written on these notes. Lydia had never been fond of the color yellow. Now she despises it. 

The Maitlands had advised her to stay in a dorm so she could make friends. It would have been wiser to live with roommates safely on compass rather than ask her father for an apartment of her own. As a vocal performance major, Lydia wanted the privacy to practice in her own apartment. Now, she looks for any excuse not to be at home. 

School is worse, because she’s certain that this person is in one of her classes. Not knowing is the one thing that kills her. Lydia is always looking over her shoulder in the hallways or glancing over the faces of students in choir. There are nights where she writes the names of everyone that she knows personally in class. Every day it’s someone new that she’s suspicious of. 

One drunken night she had even suspected it to be Beetlejuice himself. She had even fetched a cab to Pennstation so she could grab a train back home to Adam and Barbara for answers. That was until she saw all the people waiting on the platform to New Haven. _What if her stalker was there?_ Lydia had been too petrified to step off the platform into the train. She had swiped the credit card her father gave her for thirty-five dollars and hadn’t even used the ticket. He’d ask questions that she herself didn’t even really have good answers to. 

The list of names continues as her paranoia increases. Today the name on her list is Rachel. Lydia catches her rival’s eyes glancing over at her. The shock of her casting as Pamina in The Magic Flute had thrown her rival into a tizzy. _“It’s a first soprano role!”_ her rival had screamed, but Dr. Cho had insisted that Lydia had the range to perform it and that he had faith that the role would challenge her in positive ways.

Lydia looks at the spoiled Jersey native’s furious stare. She’s certain that this is a joke to her. Lydia glares back at the Jersey Shore reject. Maybe if she asserts herself rather than ignoring the situation, Rachel will finally stop. Lydia glances down at her music and maintains her focus. The last thing she’ll let this girl do is slip up her progress.

When class ends, Lydia doesn’t even hesitate for a moment to leave. She stuffs her music binder into her shoulder bag and hurries out of the recital hall. She keeps her eyes forward, trying not to make eye contact with anyone in the class. When she reaches the hallway, she makes a b-line to the door. The sooner she gets out of the music building, the better.

“Hey!” 

Lydia cringes at the Jersey accent. She turns on her heel and faces her rival in all of her spray-tanned glory. Lydia straightens her spine and tilts her chin up at Rachel and wears a smug smile on her lips. _Stick with the plan,_ Lydia tells herself. _Don’t back down._

“What do you want, Rachel?” Lydia says before crossing her arms.

“Don’t you ever give me that _cross_ look again!” Rachel hisses.

“Why not?” Lydia tilts her head to the side. “You can’t seem to take your eyes off of me.”

“How much did your father pay to get you that part?” she asks.

“Nothing,” Lydia answers. “How much did your father pay to get you into this school?”

Rachel’s brown eyes narrow. She takes one step toward Lydia and glares down upon her. Her nose wrinkles as she snarls at her. “By the end of the semester, I’ll see to it that you’re removed from this program. You might as well quit now while you’re ahead.”

Lydia scoffs. “I’ve been to hell and back before. It’s going to take more than an MTV reject to scare me.”

Rachel stares down at her with pure hate in her eyes. She sticks her nose up at Lydia and walks away from her in a huff. Lydia draws a deep breath through her nose and clenches her jaw. She’s never been more certain than she is now that Rachel is behind the post-it notes. It eases her mind a little bit knowing it’s only Rachel. It could be worse. It could have been a guy with a crush or even worse a faculty member. All that she needs now is to catch her in the act.

“Lydia, hey…”

Lydia turns to see one of the baritone students in the choir. She glances up at his lopsided glasses and the blue flannel that clashes with his sweatpants. She tries to remember his name. It started with an A.

“ _Art…?_ ” Lydia guesses.

“Al,” he corrects.

“Yeah, so I’m not getting some of my notes right,” Al is shaking when he says the next line. “I don’t want to lose my part in The Magic Flute. I really want to do good. I’m afraid I’m going to fail my juries. You seem to know what you’re doing. So...”

A part of her wants to reach out and help this poor guy. Chorus isn’t exactly a huge role, but she does recall Dr. Cho becoming frustrated with him the last few rehearsals. But, her plot of catching Rachel in the act tonight lingers in the back of her mind. She had just enraged the girl. There’s definitely going to be a post-it left on her window to intimidate her.

“I wish I could,” Lydia frowns. “Look, I’m really sorry, but I have so much homework. I’m sure one of the teachers could help you over the weekend. Things have been really crazy for me this semester. I’m really sorry.”

That spike of anxiety hits her when she remembers she doesn’t even know her own part as well as she should. She’s been so focused on her stalker situation that she had forgotten all about keeping up with her music. She gives Al an awkward, apologetic look before she makes her way to the door. 

Guilt settles within her. She could have helped him for an hour at least. Maybe she’s selfish for choosing to corner her tormentor over helping someone. But, she just wants her life back. It’s been months since she’s felt safe. She wants to be able to sit on the subway again without wondering if her stalker is sitting across from her.

Lydia moves through the campus, watching the people that pass her suspiciously. Even though she’s certain Rachel is responsible, there’s still this part of her that fears she’s wrong. A part of her doesn’t even want to deal with the post-it note situation. She could just avoid it entirely and use her fake ID to drink her problems away. Lydia reminds herself that this might be her one chance. She can’t back down now.

She reaches the subway and scans her monthly pass before going downstairs to the platform. She stands on the platform as a train rushes by her. Her eyes scan the faces of people waiting on the platform. There’s a man leaning against a pole in a hoodie and a pair of sunglasses. A couple similar to Adam and Barbara holding hands. Several other unrecognizable people stand on the platform. Lydia’s heart races as her palms sweat. 

The train home stops before her. Lydia quickly boards and grabs hold of a pole. She can’t stay still long enough to sit with all this anxiety running through her. The crowds on the train scare her. She’d think that the pandemic a couple of years ago would scare the public into distancing themselves from each other but it seems that the moment a vaccine came through that everyone just went back to living how they used to.

When the train calls out her stop, Lydia practically leaps out onto the platform. She rushes out of the subway station and back up to the New York City streets. The sun is falling from the sky. She enters her apartment building and waves to the doorman behind a desk. At the very least, her stalker can’t come through the front entrance. 

She takes the elevator to the top floor of the building and makes her way to her apartment. Lydia shuts the door behind her and leans against it. She releases a deep breath when she notices the small apartment is still vacant. Lydia glances over at the window to her fire escape. It’s night time now and there isn’t a note tacked onto the window. 

Lydia drops her bag to the floor and steps toward the window. She glances at the lock to her window, noticing that she had forgotten to lock it the last time she swiped a post-it note from the other side. Lydia steps back in horror. It must have been her anxiety that made her forget. She slams the lock down on the window and steps back till her feet touch her bed. She sits down on the mattress as her anxiety takes hold of her. 

“It’s okay,” Lydia whispers to herself. “You’re okay.”

Lydia wraps her arms around herself as tears flow freely down her cheeks. This situation is going to destroy her if she doesn’t tell her father. Someone needs to know so at the very least she doesn’t feel so alone anymore. 

“All I wanted was help, but you ignored me. You always ignore me. You can't even remember my name..."

Lydia’s entire body goes numb at the sound of the voice behind her. She doesn’t want to turn around and face him. She wants to pretend that the voice is in her head. Lydia shuts her eyes as tears fall down her face. She opens and turns to glance over her shoulder. Al emerges from the bathroom with a knife in hand.

“There was a girl in California just like you. Black hair, goth look…” he says. “She sang in a local rock band. I didn’t want to kill her, but she made me feel so worthless. Why wasn’t I good enough for her? Why am I not good enough for you? I thought it would be different from LA here. There was a girl in Arizona. She disappeared. I don’t know where she went. It’s like she vanished into thin air.”

Lydia rises to her feet. “Maybe she ran, because she knew you’d hurt her. Did that thought ever cross your mind?”

Lydia’s eyes glance to the door, thinking of any sort of escape route. Al places the knife in his belt and raises both of his hands in the air as if he were being arrested. “I don’t want to hurt you. I think we could still be something, Lydia.”

Lydia shakes her head and says, “Just leave. Please.”

Al lowers his eyes to the floor as tears run down his cheeks. Lydia glances at the door. It’s now or never. She races toward the door, but Al grabs a hold of her before she can make it. Lydia struggles against him, trying to reach for the door handle. He pulls her toward the bed and throws her down.

“I didn’t want it to be this way,” he says as he pushes against her shoulders. “I wanted it to be romantic. We could have been so much, Lydia. But, you made me do this…”

Every single nerve in her feels as if it’s on fire. This is it. She’s really going to die after this psycho rapes her. She’ll haunt this building for god knows how long. Maybe Beetlejuice will be there on the other side.

_Beetlejuice…_

A crooked smile forms on her lips. She spits up at Al. “You’re going to regret ever breaking into my apartment, you sick fuck!”

Al backhands her across the cheek in rage. Lydia’s grin still stays plastered across her face as she turns back to him to say the name of the one person that can save her.

“Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice! _Beetlejuice!_ ”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
